Everything We Need
by J-J-Sawyer-Phillips
Summary: Once Upon a Time. An AU future fic, set in the Enchanted Forest. Emma is sent on a scavenger hunt. Based on a tumblr prompt from justalilblondemama. I do not own any of the characters, but I wish I did.


**A/N: Based on a tumblr prompt from justalilblondemama. The Lilac flower represents first love, and as a color, it stands for romance balanced with an understanding and respect for the past. The Calla Lily represents superiority and royalty. Colors in the lighter end of the purple spectrum (including lilac) stand for futurity, creativity, mystery, spirituality, imagination, and self-lessness. **

Emma wakes slowly, not wanting to get out of bed just yet. The sleep-warmed silk sheets feel absolutely glorious against her naked skin—one of the few luxuries of this new world that she's really gotten used to. Some of the clothes and fabrics she'd rather burn, but being born a princess—if not raised as one—requires a certain amount of personal sacrifice on her part. She normally rises at first light, a habit picked up from sharing her bed with a ship's captain since their adventures in Neverland. But he's been gone on a mission for her father for the last two weeks, so she's been sleeping in to make up for all the tossing and turning in the lonely hours when she isn't busy. She's thrown herself into work—pouring over maps to memorize the geography, debating the finer points of new trade agreements and treaties with her parents, reading as many "history" books as she can get her hands on… Basically, she's been doing her best to collapse from exhaustion every night, to forget how much she misses Killian if only for just a few minutes.

She rolls over with a groan, pressing her face to his pillow; despite the fact that the sheets have been changed and the bedding fluffed every morning, there are still lingering traces of the clove and cedar scents that she associates with her pirate captain. She laughs at her own forgetfulness, because Killian Jones stopped being both of those things the second he accepted David and Snow's royal pardon and the position of admiral in their fledgling navy. _Because that man __really__ needed more people to boss around. _Her smile deepens, contemplating the complex reality of the man she loves.

Four years ago, she'd been just plain Emma Swan—bail bonds person, loner, nomad. Now, she's mom to a teenager, daughter to a king and queen, and lover of a particularly infamous literary character. Life seldom gets any stranger or more satisfying. She finally opens her eyes all the way, quickly realizing from the position of the sunlight on the walls that it's much closer to noon than dawn. Sighing and throwing the covers off then sliding her feet to the floor, Emma freezes when she notices a folded piece of parchment on her night table, held in place with a small sprig of lilac blossoms that is tied together with a purple ribbon. She reaches for the satin robe that she tossed onto the chair last night, belting it around her body and walking over to the vanity.

Normally, her mom personally picks all of the flowers for the arrangements in the family bedrooms and the elaborate bouquets are placed in various vases on whatever surfaces the queen has dictated they should stand. But her and Killian's room is noticeably absent of any flowers except this tiny, child-sized bundle. She picks up both, right hand bringing the corsage to her nose and enjoying the light, happy fragrance. She slips her thumb between the two halves of the parchment, opening the note. The yellowed page is rough, as if only recently cut and smells briny. In beautiful, elaborate cursive and sepia ink are written two words: Meet Me. She drops both items as if burned and runs to her wardrobe.

In less than five minutes, she has on her least complicated outfit: pale linen blouse, plain-ish brown leather corset-vest, with all the matching accessories—pants, overskirt, and boots. It's more layers than she would have ever worn back in Storybrooke and took her far longer to get ready than she wanted, but then again, she didn't want to scandalize any foreign dignitaries or unsuspecting townspeople. She's already called down to have her mare, Briseis, saddled and ready, so in no time at all she's riding like the wind, bound for the docks. When she gets there, she searches frantically for the _Jolly Roger_, but doesn't see any galleys—only merchant vessels. But the very last ship is flying a lilac banner and a pennant with a black and white swan on it. _Cheeky, sneaky bastard!_

She tries to keep to the slow, steady walk her mother is always encouraging her to use, but it's taking all of Emma's control not to _will_ herself there with her magic. She refuses to use her powers unless her "battery" needs draining, or if it's for something very important; if anyone can say that they've earned the chance to make their life a little easier, it's her, but she's also keenly aware of the cost that comes with that line of thinking. When she gets to the end of the dock, she finds another, bigger bouquet of lilac blossoms with white lilies. She also notes the vessel's name: _Dawn of Hope_. She rolls her eyes, even though he can't possibly see it. It shouldn't have really, but once they became lovers it had surprised her to no end when Killian revealed a deeply romantic side of himself. He'd tell her that a woman like her deserved an entire court of poets composing verses in praise of her.

She'd laughed and accused him of flattery until the day he started leaving little love notes all around their rooms for her to find. And every one that she "returned" to him at the end of the day, he'd whisper it against her skin while making love to her that same night. So, while this wasn't the first scavenger hunt that he'd sent her on, it was certainly the one she wanted over fastest. They hadn't spent this much time apart since… well, since right after Neverland when everything was just so crazy. "Your highness! You've made it here much quicker than expected!" The stocky man up on the deck takes off his hat, then also slips off his precious red beanie.

"Mr. Smee, I believe that you have something or, hopefully, some_one_ of mine waiting for me here on your vessel. Congratulations on the new ship, by the way. Impressive how fast your business has grown in a year." The former pirate looks slightly abashed and embarrassed, but also pleased at her compliments.

"I do appreciate everything the Admiral has done for me, and you as well, Princess. Unfortunately, he isn't here, but he did tell me to make sure that you get the flowers and his next note. Oh! And that the items he ordered will be delivered to the palace immediately." Emma stands with her hands on her hips and cocks an eyebrow at the fawning merchant. Unfortunately, her impatience means that her control slips a bit and some of her power flows out into her voice.

"Any chance I can get you to tell me what he's up to and where he's hiding?" Smee gulps audibly, still scared of anyone who can use magic after spending quite a bit of time as a rat.

"I—I ha—hate to di-dis-di-disappoint you, my lady, but I have strict orders from the Admiral not to."

"It's alright, Mr. Smee. I know how intimidating he can be. Just give me my clue, please." He bows again before handing over the parchment and scurrying back below deck. She mumbles a thank you, but is too focused on where she's supposed to be going next. _Where land and sky and sea collide._

She smiles again, remembering one of their first nights back in the Enchanted Forest. Henry had wanted to go up onto the battlements to take in the view, infecting both Killian and Emma with his excitement. While her son had run around, asking the dwarves and the guards whatever questions came into his mind, the adults had just stood watching the play of light on the water below them. Truth be told, as soon as Henry was out of sight, they hadn't been able to hold themselves in check any longer. Killian had pushed her back against the stone wall and kissed her senseless; when he finally let her breathe, he told her that he'd wanted to do that the moment he'd first laid eyes on her. After that, they'd simply held onto one another and enjoyed the sunset. Ever since, he always referred to it as their perfect spot—the place where all three worlds of the goddess touched.

So back up to the palace she goes, startling townsfolk with her swift return journey and catching a few knowing glances from a few of the servants who seem busier than normal. In fact, Emma's pretty sure there are more of them, too. But she lives in a freaking castle now!—there's bound to be quite a few people that she doesn't know on a first name basis. She manages to be polite and say hello or thank each of them for their work; just because their job isn't as glamorous as hers seems doesn't mean that they don't reserve her respect and acknowledgment. When she opens the last door, she breathes in deeply. The wind up here is fairly constant, so the air is always fresh and clean, but she also catches a hint of lilacs and lilies. Another note held down by another, even larger bouquet rests on the marble bench that Grumpy carved for them… After coming up here for some fresh air and catching the two of them making out like teenagers… The dwarf had looked wickedly pleased at their reaction when he had unveiled it in front of the whole royal family.

She opens the note, swears, and starts running back down the stairs. She almost forgets to keep a hold of his notes and the flowers, because the message was so simple that she really should have guessed his intentions. _A kiss for all eternity._ He had to be hiding in their room! She felt like kicking herself for not having checked their suite thoroughly, but she had been so excited to see him that she'd run off without thinking things through. The last time they had been separated, it had only been a couple of days. But after everything they had gone through in Neverland and then getting back to the Enchanted Forest, she and Killian had effectively barricaded themselves in for an entire day. He'd said that if that was the last kiss she ever gave him, he could walk into eternity with a smile.

When she bursts through the doors to their sitting room, she startles the maid who is dusting. The poor woman clutches her chest before dropping into a curtsy. "My lady, he's-"

Emma's eyes are drawn to a dark shimmer in their bedroom. She pulls the door wide and gasps. A ridiculously beautiful ball gown is displayed on a mannequin next to her vanity. The fabric sparkles as if there are literally diamonds, emeralds, and silver woven into the dress to create a pattern of cresting waves. The underskirt is layer upon layer of tissue thin silk that almost looks as if someone has caught shadows in a net; because the overskirt will end in a perfect line with her hipbone, the dress will flow around her like dark water, occasionally revealing fleeting glimpses of her legs. More of the gossamer is loosely twisted up near her shoulders, giving the illusion of holding the dress up and highlighting her collarbones. Overall, the fabric appears to be a dark, deep green, and the corset bodice will dip low enough to highlight her curves perfectly. Matching slippers, black silk gloves, and a gorgeous silver necklace rest on the table next to it. Another piece of parchment lies open by her brushes. _Wear me._

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Apparently, the entire palace is in league with Killian against her, because it takes _hours_ for her maid to get her dressed and do up her hair. Her mother had snuck in to see her, already decked out in ice-blue formal finery. And even when Emma had pulled the best friend card, Snow had refused to tell her what was going on. She had chatted about nothing in particular, clearly trying to distract her daughter from the tedious processes. Emma did have to smile both at her mother's compliment on his taste in jewelry and at the necklace itself. It was designed to look like a sunburst, only in reverse, with an onyx as the main circular stone and bright emeralds set directly into the surface of the black piece. It was both stunning and yet understated—perfect for her.

She knows that at this point, it's useless to be arguing or to be shooting the messenger; she'll only find out what he's up to whenever _he_ decides she will. But Emma still puts on a winning smile as soon as the last curl is pinned in place and rises up from the vanity chair. "Now, can we go?"

Snow laughs at the petulant tone in her daughter's voice, sounding more like fifteen than thirty. "Yes. Now we can go down to the ballroom." She slips her arm through Emma's, and together they proceed to the audience chamber. Much of the palace still needs cosmetic work done to fully restore it, so for now, several of the rooms pull double or triple duty. Once again, she chafes at some of the new restrictions placed on her when she accepted her rank. She'd rather slip as quietly and unnoticeably as possible into the ball, but her mother insists on the protocol of being announced. The steward bows to them both before loudly pounding on the double oak doors with his staff of office.

"Their royal highnesses: her majesty, the Queen, Snow White; and her grace, the Princess Emma!" Silence descends and nearly every person in the echoing chamber bows. Only David and Henry do not, both of them standing in front of their thrones and wearing identical, smug expressions. Emma sneaks a glance at her mother, who only has eyes for the king, and thus giving away no clue as to what is going on. Still arm in arm, they gracefully glide toward the dais and their thrones.

"If I trip in these heels, I'm killing you first and _then_ the pirate." Her mother bites her lip to stifle a laugh, knowing that a large portion of her daughter's elegant entrance is due to the fact that she's been leaning on Snow the entire time. They all think it's fairly hilarious that Emma could track down suspects in stilettos, but manages to slip while dancing at least once per ball. Thankfully, they make it to the step, and Henry and David come to their rescue. In the last year, her son has shot up quite a bit—a fact that has her both proud and nervous because it means that it's one year less that she has with him. "So, kid, please tell me what's going on? I'm dying over here."

Henry just smiles in his own annoyingly knowing way, just like he did that very first night when she had asked him about his storybook. "I don't think so, Mom. Believe it or not, there are people who are _much_ scarier than you are, and they would definitely be mad if I ruined things."

Emma doesn't even get the chance to ask what he means because the steward's staff booms again, causing silence to fall once more. "His Excellency, High Admiral of the Royal Navy, the Lord Killian Jones." And then nothing else matters because he walks into the room. Even her family disappears as he strides confidently toward the thrones. She can't stop herself from staring, from raking over every inch of him with her eyes and her magic, relieved beyond words when she Sees that he's completely uninjured and safely home. She hears a mental chuckle, knowing instantly that he's projecting it at her. "_I promised you that I'd be careful to return intact, lass."_

Hearing his voice, even in her mind, causes her chest to constrict painfully. She's missed him so much and is ready to throw herself down the steps and into his arms, when her mother and Henry both place a hand on top of either of hers. She looks to either side, confused, but they both just smile and shake their heads at her. _Right, Emma. Duty first. You have to be a Princess, have to act like a Princess_. The mental pep-talk works, and she flips her hands to squeeze back, silently thanking her son and Snow for the reminder. And then he is right in front of them, kneeling before the four of them and bowing to David.

"Welcome back, Admiral. I take it that your mission was a success? What news of Queen Abigail and her consort, Prince Frederick?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty, negotiations concluded amiably and the parliament of the kingdom of Midas ratified our treaty of alliance and accord. Furthermore, I bring news directly from the queen herself that she is expecting the heir to her throne and rather forcefully demands that the both of you to act as godparents when the babe is born." David smiles at his wife, taking her hand and kissing the back of her knuckles. Emma knows that they can't speak mind to mind like she and Killian can, but she swears that they have a full conversation with each other in just that one look. "All this and more is in the report submitted to your council this afternoon, my King."

Normally at this point, Killian would ask David's permission to rise, but he stays bowed. Emma looks over at her father who smiles at her. _Did he just __**wink**__?!_ "Is there anything you wish to add, Admiral?"

"No, Sire. Nothing to add that is pertinent to my mission. However, I would ask for my King's favor."

"And what favor does a King's trusted advisor, Admiral, and friend require?"

"I _require_ nothing, but the boon that I crave, the honor that I beg of you is your blessing. I ask for the hand of your beloved daughter, Princess Emma, in marriage." She expects a collective gasp from all the guests in the room, but the only one she hears is her own. Henry and Snow both squeeze her hands tighter and share a worried look over her.

"My friend, you know that you have the blessing of myself and my Queen, and I believe you also have the support of the Prince in this matter…?"

Killian's focus shifts past Emma and directly to her son. "Your grace, you know that I adore your mother and will do all in my power to secure her happiness. May I have your blessing, Prince Henry?"

"Yeah. I guess it's okay." The room does fill with polite laughter at both his pause, then relatively non-committal answer.

"Well now that you all know what we think, I believe there's someone else who might want to have a say on this issue." Killian rises, but only so he can climb the few steps toward Emma's throne. He kneels again and takes her left hand in his. She's filled with so many intense, conflicting emotions that all she can do is stare at her lap and hold back her tears.

"Dearest Princess Emma, I've been known as a man with a way with words, but I find that they all fail me in this most important of moments. I never dreamed that a day like this would come where I had nothing to say, where I stood speechless before the one person who matters most. Please, I beg of you, say that you'll be mine, my Emma love, forever? And put me and your family and the rest of these poor people out of their agony of suspense, because now I'm terrified and nervous and I'll just keep tal—" She leans forward and shuts him up the best way she knows how, pouring all of her longing for him into a hard, but chaste kiss.

"Yes, pirate. I'll be yours, if you'll be mine."

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

If she had thought that getting ready had been a nightmare, the ball celebrating their engagement and Killian's safe return home is absolute torture. Just being this close to him after a mere two weeks apart tests both of their patience. Of course, he makes matters worse by "innocently" brushing up against her at every opportunity. And, of course, when they manage to finally leave and head to their room, appropriate protocol has to be followed. There's still a lot of unrest in their world, so a detachment of the guard accompanies them to do a final security sweep before they can retire. But this gives Emma time to enact her revenge.

He knows that she hates being the center of attention, so she intends to make him pay for that insanely romantic, yet thoroughly public proposal. She pours him two fingers of his favorite brandy, brushing her body across his back when she hands it to him. He tries to turn around and catch her, but she toed off the heels the second they entered the sitting room, so she easily evades him. As she gets her own drink, she rolls her head, letting out a low hiss of pleasure at the release of tension. She walks slowly, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she goes to sit on the chaise opposite his chair. He quirks an eyebrow, not bothering to hide the fire in his eyes. "_What sort of game are you playing at, love? Those who play with matches tend to get burned._"

_"Who says I'm playing at anything? It's been a long day, made longer by the ball. Everyone knows that I hate those heels. I'd wear boots if Mom would let me. Speaking of, you know that all of you are in trouble, right?"_

Killian scoffs and puts on an offended expression. He tips his glass to his lips and swallows the brandy before crossing over to her. Eyes never leaving hers, he brings both of her hands up to his mouth and kisses each knuckle on each finger. "I will gladly suffer any chastisement, any punishment you devise for me, Princess. Hearing you say that you'd be mine in front of the whole kingdom was worth it."

"Your grace, my Lord… All is secure. Sleep well." The instant they hear the door close, hands and lips are everywhere. Emma scrapes her nails along his scalp before tugging harshly on his hair with her left hand, while her right is already tugging at the laces of his trousers and massaging his erection. He flips her skirt up with one hand as the other dips into her corset to tease her breasts. With a flick of his finger, he releases the catch on her garters and slides one of her stockings off her leg. The next one follows its mate to the floor quickly, but it's only when he glides his hands up her thighs that he realizes that she didn't wear panties this evening.

He growls low in his throat. "We would have made it here a lot sooner, love, if you had informed me of just how eager you were to be ravished." When his fingers slip into her wet heat, she isn't the only one who moans.

"God! Killian, please, just shut up! I'm so glad you're home, but I need you. Right. Now." She locks her legs around his waist, fitting him at her entrance and moving closer to him. She throws her head back and cries out when he thrusts up into her, before wrapping herself around his body. He's fully inside her, fully home. It's the most indescribable sensation, and he always takes time to savor that first stroke, that first taste of paradise that is his Emma giving herself to him. He buries his head between the mounds of her breast, lightly kissing her creamy, soft skin.

She sucks his right earlobe into her mouth, gently nibbling it before tugging his earring. "Not the best idea if you want this to last, sweetheart. Fuck, Emma!" She bites at his collarbone before sweeping her tongue across the sting. Her grabs a fistful of her curls, pulling her mouth to his and positively dominating their kiss while he pumps slowly, yet roughly into her. He pushes her knees so that they touch the back of the lounger, giving him an even deeper, harsher angle.

"Yes, Killian! Harder!" Each syllable is punctuated by a whimper of need.

"If this is your idea of punishment, lass, you've much to learn. Did you think about this every night while I was gone? Did you touch yourself, burning for me?" He puts action to his words, rolling his thumb in circles over her clit. "Look at me, Swan! I want to see your eyes when you come for me! Don't hide those fucking beautiful eyes from me!"

Everything he's saying and doing to her coalesce in one second, bringing her orgasm. Not only does she clamp tight around him, but her magic swirls through him, too. He breathes slow and deep, watching her fall through slitted eyes, desperately clinging to his control over his own body. This night is entirely for her, and he wants her beyond sated. He carefully withdraws, shakily manages to get to his feet, and holds out a hand to help her up. In spite of the jolts of pleasure racing across her body, Emma is a long way from too far gone. Instead of taking his outstretched hand, she pushes him back with a burst of magic. His shocked expression is priceless as he stumbles directly into his chair.

"You absolute vixen!" She laughs, a throaty chuckle that shoots straight to his groin, and leans over to kiss him before disappearing in a shower of green and gold sparkles.

_"Come and catch me then."_ Killian knows exactly where she's headed and that she's doing her best to drive him crazy. But his patience is infinitely vaster than hers. He tosses back the rest of his brandy before leisurely making his way to their bedroom, discarding bits and pieces of his clothing as he goes. When he prowls through the last set of doors, he's still wearing his pants and boots; but Emma is spread out on their bed, hiding absolutely nothing from him. Even her glorious, golden curls are free from their retraining pins. The only things she's still wearing are the necklace and her engagement ring.

"I rather fancied the thought of slowly removing that dress from your luscious body, love; running my tongue along every inch of perfect skin as I revealed it. Making you beg for me to stop teasing and take you." He crawls onto the bed and up her body as he says this, kissing and nipping her flesh as he goes. He smiles because he can feel her trembling with her need for him. "I spent months plotting and scheming to make this night absolutely perfect for you, lass. It was agony to only place those little flowers in here for you to find; you looked so beautiful, so tempting while you slept. I wanted to wake you right then, just to see your smile, but I waited. So I could have you now in this moment, promised to me in front of gods and men. And now you've gone and spoiled all my delightful plans. Tell me, love, is this any way to treat the man who worships and adores you?"

He leans in close, sliding his skin along hers and rubbing his nose against her jaw line. He feels another laugh before he finds himself flat on his back, hands pinned above his head. "No, Killian, but this is." Emma kisses her way down his chest to the muscles of his stomach, which tense up beneath her sensual onslaught.

"Lass. Please-" But whatever he was going to ask her is lost in a gasp when she wraps her mouth around him, sucking hard and licking at the same time. He's incoherent in second, fisting their sheets in his hands and moaning her name. _"Darling, stop! Should be fucking illegal—what you can do to a man! Tonight is supposed to be about you, and it bloody well won't be if you don't stop your humming and that thing with your tongue! Please stop, Emma! Oh, gods please!"_

She takes him all the way in one last time before drawing her teeth all the way along his length and letting him go. "It should be illegal for a woman to show her sailor just how happy she is to see him?" She cocks an eyebrow at him, but his eyes have started their own bright blue glow. She feels the cool caress of his magic flow across her skin, tightening her already hard nipples and bringing up chills and goose bumps. A light Push from him, tumbles her onto her back, and his lips are crushed against hers.

"Like _that_, it should be! Gods help us if I ever need to be away from you any longer, lass, because I don't think I'd survive your welcome home." He uses his knee to spread her legs just a little wider. His vision goes completely white for a second when he fits himself back inside her. Emma bites her lips on a moan, loving the way he feels.

"I didn't need perfect, Killian. All I need is you."


End file.
